The Boss
by bionic4ever
Summary: MTaM2: Someone feels that Steve and Jaime have broken too many hearts on their path to being together, and is determined to make them pay....with their lives.
1. Prologue

**The Boss**

Prologue

"Chloroform's just not fast enough," the blond man argued. "You know she'll struggle right up until she drops, and it would only take one kick from those legs of hers..." He sighed, thoroughly frustrated. "You need to make a knock-out shot or something."

"Great idea," his new 'friend' scoffed. "And we'll give it to her...how?" He shook his head. "We should just shoot Austin first; that'd put a crimp in her fighting spirit."

"_**That is not the plan**_!" the blond man thundered, his eyes glowing crazily.

"What's the difference? Either way, they'll both end up just as dead."

"_**NO**_ We grab her first so I can take my time and kill her _real slow_. That bitch deserves to suffer in fear, and Austin will get a tape of every glorious second so he can commiserate before we knock him off."

"I'm just saying it'd be a lot easier -"

"And I'm telling you how we're going to do this! It's _my_ set-up – remember? You're only along for the ride."

"And the money, and...my own revenge."

"Yeah, right. Like I really care. We're gonna teach both of them a real good lesson – their _last _lesson!"

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Jaime flitted happily around the kitchen, frying sausages, flipping pancakes and pouring fleshly-squeezed orange juice into two wine glasses. She did it all at normal human speed, non-bionically, so she could savor every second. If this wasn't pure bliss, it was as close as Jaime thought anyone could get. She and Steve weren't living together, exactly; they each still maintained their own home. In the two months since Chris Williams had nearly killed them (and started a minor earthquake in the process), though, the only nights they hadn't spent under the same roof were when one or the other was on an assignment. They had even begun talking about marriage, although working out a wedding date when they could be called away at any moment was turning out to be extremely difficult.

"Good morning," Steve said cheerfully, kissing Jaime fully on the lips. He was fresh from the shower, with wet, tousled hair and only a towel around his waist to cover himself. "Do I smell sausage?"

"And pancakes," Jaime confirmed, leaning into his body for a second kiss. "Gotta say, your choice of morning attire is improving, Colonel."

Steve smiled. "Just passing through on my way to get dressed -"

"Aw...do you have to?"

"After breakfast, anything's negotiable," he said over his shoulder, on his way down the hall.

Jaime was just setting the plates on the table when Steve slid into his chair. After he took a sip of juice, he beamed at her. "Fresh-squeezed? Lady, you are definite wife material."

"Like you said, anything's negotiable."

- - - - - -

Oscar frowned, the deep drag he took on his cigar clearly voicing his displeasure and causing Russ and Jim to take an involuntary step back from the desk. "This can't be right," he insisted, the veins in his neck beginning to bulge. "Who signed off on these expenditures?" Jim and Russ wished fervently to be anywhere else but in that office. Oscar slammed a fist down onto the desk and exhaled a huge cloud of cigar smoke at his subordinates. "Have we lost the ability to speak?" he demanded. "_Who the hell signed off on this_?"

"You did," Russ answered, thinking a flak suit and helmet would be most useful.

Oscar re-opened the file and rifled through the documents until he came to the authorization. He stared at the page in mute disbelief, lighting another cigar from the tip of the first one. "I didn't sign this," he told them.

"Oscar, with all due respect, it's not a rubber stamp; it's a pen and ink signature, and -"

"I want a comparison analysis done immediately, and the results on my desk by noon." The men stood frozen. "Now, please," Oscar said in dismissal. He silently wondered if 8:45 in the morning was too early for a good, strong drink.

- - - - - -

The blond man inspected every inch of the tiny cell, with his 'friend' and partner standing in the doorway. "We're wired?" he confirmed.

His partner nodded. "Everything is functional and ready."

"The door?"

"Four inches of solid steel with lead reinforcement. Once she's drugged, she'll never break out of this one."

"And the air vent?"

"Operational. We can pump in air or whatever else we choose, and it can also be used to suck all of the air out."

"Good. This has to be perfect – clockwork perfect – or the boss'll see to it that we're in worse shape than Jaime and her beloved Colonel." The blond man couldn't keep the nervous edge from his voice. "Any mistakes, and this gets real ugly, real fast."

"I know that. We just need the drugs, and we'll be ready to go. Tomorrow, or the day after at the latest." He followed the blond man down the hallway to phone the boss with this information. "Within 48 hours, Steve will understand what it's like to lose the woman he loves, and Jaime will know what fear and pain _really _mean..."

- - - - - -

Steve loved watching Jaime ride the horses, with the breeze turning her hair into shimmering golden waves behind her. She still took his breath away; happened every time and he was helpless to fight it, so he happily gave in. He gave her a few extra minutes to gallop the horse across the meadow – and himself the extra time to just enjoy the sight – before he called her over to reluctantly burst her bubble.

He was smiling, but Jaime read something different in Steve's eyes, and after sending the horse into the corral she set herself to the task of kissing him out of whatever morose thought was temporarily stealing his joy.

"Mmmm..." Steve concurred softly. He couldn't resist pulling her tightly against him and savoring the sweet familiar taste of Jaime's lips before taking her gently by the shoulders and looking directly into her eyes.

Jaime tried joking him out of it. "That's your 'bad news' face, and it's too nice a day for crummy news, so -"

"Oscar called."

Jaime groaned. "Which one of us this time?"

"Both," he told her.

"At least we're working together -"

"No; it didn't sound that way. He said he had assignments for us."

"Plural?"

"Yeah."

Jaime noticed right away that Steve's expression was darker than a simple call summoning them to DC should make him. "What is it?" she probed carefully.

"I don't know, but something...wasn't right. We're supposed to be at LAX in three hours, to pick up the tickets and do a last-minute boarding."

Jaime frowned. "On a regular flight? He's not sending the plane?"

"See? Something is really wrong," Steve surmised, still holding Jaime in his arms, not quite ready to let go.

Jaime took advantage of that and leaned against him. "We'll take care of it as soon as we get there," she purred. "In the meantime..." Her fingers subtly began unbuttoning Steve's shirt. "It takes an hour in traffic to get to LAX..." She pushed his fully open shirt back over his strong, broad shoulders. "And half an hour to pack..." Jaime began running her hands over the lean, rippled muscles of Steve's chest. "Which leaves 90 minutes..."

Steve scooped her up in his arms, quieting her by taking control of her mouth with his own. He knew precisely the right way to spend those minutes.

- - - - - -


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"That can't be right!" Oscar insisted. "Test it again!"

Russ shook his head. "I'm sorry; they ran the analysis twice. It's your signature, with only the slightest possible variance; maybe when you were drunk, or -"

_"__**Drunk?**_ I am not in the habit of signing _anything _when I'm drunk! For that matter, I can't remember the last time I _was_ drunk!"

Russ shrugged. "I wish there was another answer, but -"

"There is!" the boss thundered. "_Find it_!"

"Oscar, I don't know what you expect me to -"

"I expect you to do your job. Period."

"Oscar -"

"_Get on it – NOW_!"

A very pale and shaken version of Russ hurried out the door, and Oscar barely had time for a frustrated sigh before his intercom buzzed. "What is it?" he snapped, much too angrily.

"Sir..." Callahan said in a tentative voice, "Steve and Jaime are here."

His office door opened while Oscar was still telling her to send them in. "Someone took his cranky pill today," Jaime observed. She and Steve found chairs while Oscar regained some semblance of calm.

"It appears we have a mole," Oscar finally shared with them. "Either that, or someone is trying to impersonate me."

"Or both?" Steve guessed.

"Could be. We've found documents I haven't signed, but they have my signature. Orders I never gave are being carried out as though I sent them. Whoever this person is, they need to be stopped. Yesterday."

"How can we help?" Jaime offered.

"I will be holding a meeting for key members of my staff in one hour, to inform them I will be taking a vacation -"

"I didn't think you knew the meaning of -" Jaime began, stopping when she saw the grim look on Oscar's face. "Sorry."

"I will not be leaving Washington, although no one is to know that but the two of you. Steve, you will be in charge here, in my absence."

"What about Russ?" Steve asked.

"I don't know who our problem individual might be, so I have to suspect everyone, at this point."

"Ok," Steve agreed.

Oscar turned to Jaime. "Babe, I need you to find and obtain any files the NSB, CIA and FBI may be hiding, in regards to all of our staff, Level Six and above."

Jaime flashed a brief, ironic little smile. "I'm guessing you don't want me to go over and politely _ask_ for this information?"

"We don't have time to be polite. You have to get in there, unseen, pull anything that looks the least bit relevant and bring it back here to Steve. Can you handle it?"

"Of course. Cat-burglar-Jaime, at your service."

Oscar didn't smile.

- - - - - -

"Where the hell have you been?" the blond man growled.

His 'friend' was panting from having run down the hall. "Getting the drugs."

"Well, good, because we're moving tonight."

"Already?"

"Goldman had a meeting; seems he's going out of town. He's left the good Colonel in charge, and sent Jaime on a wild goose chase, hunting for and obtaining our security files."

"I'm guessing she won't be trying to...ah...acquire them the legit way?"

The blond man scoffed. "You guessed right. Which puts her all alone and very vulnerable...tonight."

- - - - - -

One very cautious hand reached up and silently turned the knob; the bionic cat-burglar was alone and unimpeded, in Jack Hansen's back office. His front office had proven non-productive, with no files of any sort to be found, but there were cabinets lining the walls in this place, and instinct said to check the padlocked one first. The metal lock was no challenge for bionic fingers, though, and the drawer easily slid open.

There was nothing inside. All three drawers were completely empty. Suddenly, a fine, bitter mist filled the air, and the world went dark.

- - - - - -

The hired thugs unceremoniously dumped their unconscious prisoner onto the floor of the tiny cell, slammed the door and headed down the hall to find the blond man and receive their promised payment.

"In a minute," he told them, rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "I wanna see her first."

The thugs heads whipped toward each other in alarm, and one of them spoke without even realizing it.

"Um..._Her_?"

The blond flipped a switch that turned on a monitor for the video feed from the cell. He stared in horror at the motionless figure sprawled out on the cold concrete, then turned on the men with red-faced anger.

"You idiots! _What the hell have you done_?"

- - - - - -


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The blond man could barely contain his anger. "I told you to grab Jaime, who was breaking into Hansen's office, and -"

"And we got him," the thug said nervously. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is that 'Jaime' is a woman!"

"There was no woman there..."

"If there's one thing I can't stand," the blond sighed, "it's incompetence." He drew a weapon, aimed it at the thugs, then thought better of it. Instead, he unlocked the slightly larger cell next to the tiny one and motioned them inside. "I'll deal with you later; maybe you can explain this to the Boss," he told them, slamming the door. After checking to make sure his gun was fully loaded, he headed out to find Jaime.

- - - - - -

Jaime sat alone in Oscar's office, staring at the clock and growing more nervous each time it silently jumped forward another minute. _Where was Steve?_ He'd called on the datacom from the roof of the NSB building, but that was over an hour ago. Had he been caught by NSB Security? Not likely; Steve was too good at stealth, and at bluffing his way out of bad situations. Something had clearly gone wrong.

After double-checking the locks on the inside of the office door, Jaime made her way out onto the window ledge. Although no one was in the building except OSI Security and the night receptionist, Jaime took no chances. She didn't want to be seen leaving the office, when – as far as everyone knew – Steve was in the office, in charge, and she was...somewhere else. They'd made the decision to switch roles while they rode the elevator down to the meeting room. Oscar had agreed with their plan and told those in attendance that Steve would be temporarily taking his place.

Jaime quickly scanned the horizon in all directions, then hit the ground running, heading for the last place she knew for certain that Steve had been. She found his point of entry on the roof, and slipped down the shaft into the building. She moved swiftly from office to office, looking for any signs of a break-in or of recent activity. The building seemed completely deserted. Odd...where were the guards?

Jaime nearly tripped over the answer: the prone body of a guard, very near the entrance to Hansen's back office. _Steve wouldn't have done this! __**Who did?**_ After making sure he was breathing, Jaime stepped over him and entered the office. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the back wall, and with a sinking heart, she picked up Steve's abandoned datacom. A voice from the doorway interrupted her plan to call Oscar.

"Looking for someone?"

Jaime whirled around and stared in disbelief. "_Chris_?" He'd been declared missing and presumed dead after the incident at San Gorgonio Pass, and was the last person she'd expected to see. Unsure which side of the fence he was on, she approached him cautiously.

A smile snaked across the blond man's lips. "Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated. Disappointed, Jaime?"

"Of course not." _Even though you tried to kill me..._ In that moment, everything clicked into place. "Where's Steve?" she demanded, more angry than frightened. "What did you do?"

Chris laughed, sending a chill through Jaime's body. "You always were a smart one." Slowly – he had no reason to hurry, since no one was looking for either one of them – he pulled the pistol from his pocket and leveled it at Jaime. "Let's go."

"Where?" Jaime held Steve's datacom behind her back, hoping Williams hadn't seen her pick it up.

"You wanted to find Steve, right? I'll take you to him."

"I'm not leaving this office," Jaime hedged, moving away from the hand that tried to grab her. She pushed the emergency button on Steve's datacom while she backed away, toward the window.

"Don't think about jumping," Chris sneered. "If you do somehow manage to get away...your beloved Colonel dies." He stepped between Jaime and the window, forcing her to back away again, this time toward the door. "Jaime, I will shoot you if I have to, but you will be leaving with me."

"Security will be here any minute," she said quietly.

A second man's arm (that Jaime never saw coming because she was too preoccupied with Chris) grabbed her roughly by the neck, instantly cutting off her air. Stunned, Jaime kicked backwards and missed. Her captor seemed able to anticipate the move and dodged it easily.

"They might be coming," a very familiar voice crooned in her ear, "but we won't be here." Jaime felt the sharp bite of a needle in her neck, and within seconds the two men were carrying her limp body out the back entrance of the building.

- - - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Steve woke up very slowly, with a monster of a headache. He got up, swinging his fists before he was completely conscious, then realizing there was no one to swing at. He was alone. The first thing he noticed was the security camera mounted on the wall, and he began kicking up a ruckus, to try and bring his captors to him.

If only his head weren't so fuzzy...drugs...he guessed he'd probably been drugged. Steve attempted to push down the door, then gave it all the force he could muster, from both of his legs, with no success. He sat back down on the floor of the cell to consider his options.

Was this all part of an attempt to kidnap Oscar, replacing him with a double? Not likely, since there were far easier ways to go about that. _Jaime..._Jaime was supposed to have been in that office, looking for files; was she the real target? And if he, himself, was the target (Steve pondered), who knew about the switch he'd made with Jaime? No one except – Oscar. There was absolutely no possible way that Oscar would...was there?

Where was he, anyhow – a prison? As he began to regain full awareness and looked around more closely, he realized this place was far more sinister than a prison cell. There were cuffs or manacles of some sort, about six feet up the wall opposite the camera. Shackles were also attached near the floor, making it clear to Steve that a human being was to be chained there. Then he saw...wires. More than a dozen wires hung from various heights, on either side of the manacle area. Curious, he touched the tip of his left index finger to one, and was jolted backward, into the camera wall. The wires were live, and one thing was terrifyingly clear: this was _not_ a prison cell. It was a torture chamber.

- - - - - -

Rudy, as had long been his habit, was working overnight in his lab in OSI Headquarters. When he was finished (for the moment, anyway), he decided to head up to the penthouse office and check in with Steve. _Probably bored out of his mind, sitting up there, _Rudy thought. _I'll bring him some coffee._ The express elevator opened, and he passed Callahan's empty desk, stopping to knock on the big wooden office door. No answer. _Strange, but maybe he fell asleep. _Rudy moved to peer in the tiny window off to one side, and saw with alarm that the office looked empty. He banging more insistently and was still met with silence, so Rudy reached into his pocket for his keyring, finding the one key he'd never used before: a key to Oscar's office, for emergency use only. _I think this qualifies. _

The kindly old doctor opened the door very slowly and – yes – the office was deserted, a window on the far wall the only clue to where Steve might've gone. Rudy instantly picked up the phone and called Oscar, sounding the alarm that would summon the cavalry.

- - - - - -

Steve sat up, as alert as he could make himself, when he heard a key in the door. At first, he saw only Jaime, out cold and slumped over, motionless. Steve's eyes traveled upward to see who was holding her so roughly, and the sight rocked him to his core.

"_Marchetti_? What are you doing?"

The young doctor glared darkly at Steve, dumped Jaime's body down onto the cell floor beside him and stepped away without saying a word. In his place stood the man with the key – and the gun. This time, Steve was not shocked or even surprised. "Williams; I should've guessed you wouldn't die that easily." Chris took a step toward Jaime, and Steve leaned over her protectively. "Don't touch her," he warned, his voice fierce with anger.

Chris shrugged. "Fine; I won't. _You _put her in the shackles, Colonel."

"Not a chance. I won't let you hurt her, and I certainly won't help you!"

The blond man's finger twitched on the trigger as he aimed his pistol straight at Jaime's head. "You do it now, or I'll shoot her, right there on the cold, hard floor. That something you wanna see, Colonel? The effects of a bullet in the brain at close range can be pretty ugly..."

- - - - - -

Oscar was back in his office in under 30 minutes. He was very glad he'd decided to let Rudy know he would still be in town. Jack Hansen arrived soon after, summoned by Rudy at Oscar's request.

"We have a situation," Oscar explained carefully, keeping most of the details to himself for a reason. "I have a missing, high-level operative, and I need you to assemble these people in my outer office immediately. I will speak to them one at a time – alone." He handed the NSB Director a list, and Hansen left right away to get started.

"Oscar," Rudy wondered, "do you know who's behind this – who might've lured Steve out the window?"

Oscar relaxed, just a bit. "I know it wasn't you. Someone on that list has a lot of explaining to do."

- - - - - -


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Reluctantly, hoping he could save her before anything worse happened, Steve complied with Chris's demand to place Jaime in the shackles and was rewarded by Michael returning to jab him in the neck with a syringe. He didn't black out, but his muscles went weak, and his captors dragged him out of the cell and down the hall into the office where they dumped him into a chair in front of the video monitor. In spite of the fact that Steve no longer had any ability to fight back, Chris and Michael cuffed his hands behind the chair and drew heavy chains around him to secure him in place.

"Why are you doing this?" he mumbled.

Instead of an answer, Chris switched the monitor on, and Steve could see Jaime, chained to the wall and hanging limply with her feet barely supporting her – in vivid, horrific color.

"I'll be right back," Michael said, to no one in particular. Steve soon saw him appear next to Jaime in the cell, and he began attaching the dangling wires to her body.

"Don't worry; they're off – for now," Chris sneered. Behind Steve's back, he flipped another switch, for a second video camera. The Boss had specifically requested film of Steve's every pain-filled reaction.

"You know," Chris said smoothly, "you and your little sweetie in there have not been very nice to the rest of us."

"You're doing this because I 'took her from you' – right?" Steve guessed.

"Might be part of the reason -"

"Then, you've got me. Let Jaime go."

"Unfortunately, not an option -"

"Hook me up to your damn machine," Steve insisted, "but don't hurt her."

"You don't understand," Chris said, his voice rising, "Marchetti and I might be in this to see you suffer, but we're pawns – hired guns, I guess you'd say."

"What are you talking about?"

"After he saved me from San Gorgonio, someone else realized the harm the two of you had done – _AGAIN – _and felt you should pay for causing so much pain to so many people. _**Both **_of you."

"Somebody...who?"

"You don't need to know that," Michael added from the doorway. "Consider our boss to be one more in the long chain of broken hearts you and Jaime care nothing about."

Steve began to struggle in earnest, in spite of the drugs' effects. It was no use. "So you're being paid...to hurt us?"

"Hurting you is a side benefit," Chris told him. "We've been paid to kill you, after you watch _her _die a long, slow death"

- - - - - -

The first person on the list was still rubbing sleep from his eyes when he entered Oscar's office. "Sit down, Russ," Oscar told him.

"Oscar? But...where's Steve?"

"Rudy got here a little while ago, and the office was locked from the inside, with that window wide open. No one was here. You can go, Russ; please wait with the others."

Jim was next. He'd been awake when Hansen summoned him, but was just as confused as Russ had been, to see Oscar at his desk, instead of Steve. "Send Callahan in next." Oscar requested.

"Sir?" she asked hesitantly from the doorway. "Is something wrong? You're back from vacation already?"

Oscar nodded wordlessly at a chair, and the secretary obeyed. "Rudy found the office empty, locked from the inside," he explained for the third time. "The window was wide open. I need everyone's theory on what might have happened here."

"Well, Sir, I – I don't know, really. Maybe Jaime got worried and went looking for Steve...?"

Oscar's hand hit the intercom buzzer, and Hansen stepped inside. "Arrest her," he demanded, too furious to even look at his (former) secretary. "And if she doesn't start talking _right away_, throw her in the Hole."

- - - - - -

Chris and Michael said no more to their captive as they sat with him, staring at the monitor and waiting for Jaime to wake up. Steve had fought ferociously, but was unable to bend even the thin, weaker metal of his handcuffs. Doctor Marchetti knew precisely how to mix a drug cocktail, and it was working to perfection; Steve was fully alert, but too weak to move.

Their captors snapped to attention as Jaime gradually began to stir. Both jumped to their feet in anticipation. "It won't be too bad, at first – less voltage than a little stun gun," Chris said in a cold voice. "We don't want her dying on us too soon. Check the meter, Marchetti."

Steve tried to send Jaime some sort of psychic signal to keep her eyes closed, but it didn't work. His stomach sank and his heart broke when he realized the camera was also wired for sound.

"Steve..." she whispered in a weak voice. The terror she felt as she discovered her situation was evident on her face. Steve thought his heart would stop as Marchetti's hand flipped the switch to administer the first shock.

At the exact same moment, the door burst open, and everything went crazy.

- - - - - -


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Oscar, Russ, and a dozen assorted G-men stormed the office, but Steve's eyes were riveted to the monitor, where Jaime's body had jumped with the force of the jolt and was now hanging limply. She was breathing way too hard, and her eyes were closed. He couldn't tell if she was conscious.

"Hit her again," Chris yelled to Michael. "Give her all of it!" The G-men were already grabbing his arms as he pointed his gun at Steve. He never had the chance to shoot before three of them threw him to the ground to be cuffed.

Steve pulled so desperately at his chains that the chair tipped. As he was going down, he shouted "_Shut down the power!_ _**They're killing her**_!" Steve heard Jaime cry out in pain and he broke free of his bonds as the room – and the building – fell into total darkness.

"_Jaime_!" he called, running blindly down the hall. The heavy door and the drugs Steve had been given were no match for his love and determination, and the door flew open easily. His eye could barely make out her form against the wall, and he pulled at the chains to free her, then took her limp body in his arms and ran back toward the front office. His mind flashed back to another horrible night when he'd carried her – unconscious – in his arms. Jaime had died that night. "Not this time," he promised himself, as well as Jaime. "Hang on, Sweetheart." Steve held her close to his chest, feeling her rapid heartbeat as he ran out the door to find the waiting Medivac.

"Steve – over here!" Rudy called, shining a small beacon at him for guidance. He began assessing his patient the instant Steve laid her on the stretcher. "Get us to National, double speed!" he called to the pilot, as he and Steve hunched into the back of the chopper and it quickly took off. "Tell them to have a cardiac team ready."

_Cardiac? _Steve stared down at Jaime as the physician began his work. Her face was beyond pale; it was a frightening, ashen shade of gray. Jaime's lips had faded to bluish-white, and she wasn't moving. Steve moved slightly to one side, to allow the medic to assist Rudy, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of Jaime's hand.

"She's not breathing," the medic said quietly.

Rudy worked swiftly and silently for a few more moments, before bursting into a sudden flurry of activity. "Tachycardia," he said urgently, "and she's going into v-fib." The medic dove across the chopper and grabbed the small machine that Steve noted with dismay had more wires sticking out of it. "Steve," Rudy added, "you'll have to let go now."

Steve sat motionless for a split-second, stunned at this turn for the worse. He had to force back a tear as he released Jaime's hand and sat back to allow the men more room to work on saving her. A second medic, who'd been seated next to the pilot, joined them and assisted his partner in attaching the two electrodes to Jaime's chest. They leaned back at the sound of Rudy's voice. "Now!"

A switch was hit and once again, a current flowed through Jaime's body – this one trying to save her from the effects of the first jolt's lethal intentions. "Still V-fib," Rudy told them. "We're going again. Now!"

A nearly inaudible moan escaped Jaime's lips as her chest began to rise and fall again. Rudy leaned back over her briefly, and exhaled a sigh of relief. "Normal rhythm," he said, finally managing a small smile. "Great work, guys; we got her back."

- - - - - -

Steve met briefly with Oscar while Rudy and the cardiac team ran their preliminary tests. He was dismayed to learn that he, not Jaime, had provided 'The Boss' with the inspiration to veer into torture and attempted murder.

"Callahan?" he repeated. "Are you sure?"

"She was forging my signature down to the last stroke," Oscar said grimly. "All to gather enough money and intel to pull this off."

"Williams and Marchetti were working...for Callahan."

"I'm sure they had their own sick agendas, Pal, and their own warped reasons for doing what they did."

"Where are they now?"

"Callahan's cooling her heels in the Hole. I may have inferred to her that she'd be moved to a regular cell in exchange for her information, but -"

"You lied?" Steve concluded.

"Something like that. Marchetti and Williams should be joining her right about now. Separate 'Holes', of course."

Steve nodded. He was about to go into the details of what he saw as suitable punishment when Rudy emerged from the CCU.

"The good news is that there appears to be no permanent damage to Jaime's heart, or to her body as a whole," the doctor declared.

"And...the bad news?" Steve wondered.

"Jaime is in a coma. The force of the voltage and the serious cardiac incident she suffered on the Medivac have left her very close to death. But the fact that she's made it this far should give us a lot of hope."

Steve took a deep breath to steady himself. "Is she suffering, Rudy? Is she in pain?"

"I don't think so. She _is_ stable – a very good sign – but until she wakes up, Jaime's condition is still precarious...and critical."

- - - - - -


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Steve sat patiently at Jaime's bedside, watching her closely for any signs of movement or awareness. It was the longest 41 hours of his life, spent unsure if the only woman who'd ever broken through to his well-shielded heart was leaving him again, if their miraculous third chance to be together was over before it had even begun.

The sun had gone down on the second day of his vigil when Steve stood at the window, his back to the room, and finally allowed the tears to break through his tough exterior shell. He'd been standing there for just a few minutes when a very faint rustling of Jaime's sheets sent him flying back to her side. "Jaime...?" he whispered. She still wasn't moving, but he'd heard it; he was sure he had! Steve clasped her hand in both of his and leaned down to kiss her softly on the cheek.

Her fingers wiggled, ever-so-slightly, in his own, taking his breath away. "I love you, Jaime," he choked out through fresh tears, "and I need you; I need _us_." The moment that her eyes opened and met his, Steve could feel the impact clear through his body and down to his soul. "Welcome back, Sweetheart," he said, tenderly brushing the hair from her face and kissing her again. His world had tilted upright once more, spinning on its proper axis; Jaime had come back to him and his heart knew exactly where to take it from there.

- - - - - -

It was a quiet ceremony, in the hospital chapel, with Oscar, Rudy, Helen and Jim Elgin in attendance to cheer for the newlyweds. Steve and Jaime knew they'd had a very close call – _too _close – and wanted to be united legally the way their souls and hearts had been united from the start. Jaime would be staying in the hospital for several weeks, while the team kept a close watch for any aftereffects from her ordeal, and neither she nor Steve could stand to wait that long.

Helen had joyfully helped with all the arrangements, and Jaime wore a beautiful, lacy dress and carried a huge bouquet of yellow, white and red roses. She allowed them to push her to the chapel in a wheelchair, but was very adamant about walking down the aisle. The honeymoon could wait; Jaime and Steve had achieved their hearts' greatest desire.

- - - - - -

Two days later, Oscar brought them the news that all three defendants – Callahan, Marchetti and Williams – were pleading guilty. There would be no trials for Jaime and Steve to endure, no re-living of their ordeal through multiple testimonies.

While Steve was as relieved as his new bride, he had a request to make of Oscar, once he'd pulled him out of Jaime's range of hearing.

"I want to see Callahan. I need you to arrange it – today, if possible."

"She's still in NSB custody, and still in the hole," Oscar told him. "She's being transferred to Federal custody next week."

"Perfect. The NSB can keep me from ringing her neck."

"Steve..."

"Kidding, sort of." Steve shook his head. "I won't lay a hand on her; you know that. I just need to know _why:_ why Jaime nearly died, and why I would've been next."

"What does Jaime think about this?"

"She doesn't know. Please, Oscar. I need to do this, so I can put it behind us and go on."

Oscar nodded. He understood.

- - - - - -

Steve had never kept anything from Jaime, and he did plan to tell her about visiting Callahan – after the fact. He didn't want her to be worried or frightened; he needed some answers for his own peace of mind. Maybe, once he'd gotten them (no question of 'if' – he _would _get them!), he could give Jaime peace of mind, as well. She seemed to be quietly suffering from deep inner turmoil, blaming herself for Chris and Michael's pain and considering herself responsible for what had happened. Steve had the feeling, from what Oscar had said, that the shoulders that should carry the blame were much broader: his own.

The NSB 'Hole' was an ugly place, in the deepest bowels of the basement of their Headquarters, mustier and more dimly lit than hell itself. Steve felt a momentary twinge of sadness that a woman (or anyone, for that matter) had to endure conditions like these, but this trio had chosen this path and could rot there, for all it mattered, after what they'd tried to do to Jaime.

"I'll be right outside the door, Colonel," the guard told him. "Knock when you're ready to come out."

"Thank you." Steve stepped into a cell that was even tinier than the one he and Jaime had been held in, wincing slightly to himself as the door closed behind him. He looked at the woman who sat defiantly on the small metal bed/bench, meeting her gaze straight-on, without blinking or backing away.

"Hello, Peggy."

Peggy felt pierced by the quiet anger in his eyes, and had to look away. "What do you want, Steve?"

"I need to talk to you." Steve was looking her over warily, and she seemed a much smaller woman than the one who'd reigned over Oscar's outer office. "Peggy...why?"

"Is...is Jaime...ok?"

"She nearly _died; _did you know that? I hate to disappoint you, but my wife will be just fine – eventually."

"Your...wife?"

"That's right."

"Oh."

"Why did you do this, Peggy? _How could you do this_?" Steve struggled to keep his voice and emotions under control. "Did something I said or did make you believe that we -"

"I...I...love you, Steve," the tiny woman whispered, bursting into tears.

"You know that my heart belongs to Jaime. It always has. If I led you to believe otherwise, then -"

"You didn't. I wanted it – I wanted **you** – so badly. If it wasn't for _her -_"

"Peggy, in the jobs we have, you and I never could've been together; you know that."

"She fixed it to be that way, you know. She never wanted us to have a chance!"

Steve was floored. "What?" The broken woman continued to sob, and said no more. Finally, Steve knocked on the door and made his way outside. He'd gotten what he came for, in spades.

- - - - - -


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

After observing her closely in the hospital for several weeks, Rudy sent his patient home, knowing she had her own personal bodyguard/caregiver, in the form of her new husband. He planned to visit them daily, at first, to check on Jaime's well-being and to simply enjoy the joyful aura that surrounded the two of them, wherever they went.

On their first night back at the ranch, they sat close together on the front porch, watching the sun melt into the horizon. "You know," Jaime sighed happily, leaning into the warmth of Steve's arms, "we haven't actually consummated this marriage yet."

"We will. You're still recovering; no need to rush -"

"Rudy said some mild cardio-vascular activity would be good for me."

Steve grinned. "I don't think that was what he meant."

Jaime's hands moved smoothly over Steve's chest, meeting his every muscle along the way, and gradually reaching around to the small of his back as she eased herself onto his lap. "Maybe not, but can you think of a better way to...exercise?"

"Not in this lifetime," Steve concurred, scooping her up and carrying her into the house. He set Jaime down gently on their new satin sheets, in awe of the fact that she was still here and she was – finally and permanently – his.

Their love was tender, slow and filled with all the passion they'd waited weeks to express. When it was over, they laid back contentedly entwined in each other's arms, unwilling to break the spell by going to sleep. When they finally drifted off, each remained happily ensconced in the other's embrace, all the way until morning.

END


End file.
